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by mydamnedpassion
Summary: Hashirama loves Madara, why was he so damn stubborn?  GRAPHIC YAOI SMUT, HashiMada  in that order


**AN- This is GRAPHIC YAOI. don't like, don't read. :)**

**HashiMada**

**I do not own any of these characters, unfortunately.**

**X**

"Madara, please..."

Hashirama tried- and failed- to bat away Madara's skilful hands, currently working their way up Hashirama's fishnet shirt and trailing maddeningly soft circles over his toned stomach.

"Shut up! You left me alone for 2 weeks while you went on that stupid-"

"-_Vital_ intel mission-"

"-and I'm horny as hell!"

Hashirama's face flushed at Madara's blatant honesty. He groaned as Madara's lips found his exposed collarbone, sucking possessively at the tan flesh.

"I- _nngh_- mission... Report..."

"Those old prunes can wait... I know you want this."

"Ah!" Hashirama felt his blood rush downstream as Madara roughly clasped his hand around his sensitive length, having somehow manoeuvred into Hashirama's pants.

"N-no, stop it, Dara!" Hashirama barked, springing reluctantly away from Madara's irresistible touches. Madara's face softened a fraction at the use of his pet-name, before his features contorted with annoyance.

"Fine! Go fill in your damn report, _Senju_." Madara spat out the fractionally larger man's clan-name and turned his back to him.

Sighing, Hashirama zipped up his pants, gazing longingly at the beautiful Uchiha in front of him. He wanted the man- there were no two ways about it. He wanted to fuck him into the mattress, tug his rippling ivory locks, release himself inside that sensational velvet cavern... Wy did he have to be so damn stubborn?

Hashirama snapped the door shut abruptly and stalked to the mission office, thoroughly ticked-off about his lack of sex and not appreciating the thought of returning home to a pissy Madara.

Resigning himself to the prospect of sleeping on the couch, he entered the Hokage office and waved half-heartedly at his brother.

"Just got back from Iwagakure-" Hashirama threw the report down on the desk- "where are the elders?"

"Conferencing with the Sunagakure elders." Tobirama leant back on his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"How're you enjoying the 'work experience'?"

"Got a few comments from some angry Uchihas-" Hashirama grimaced at the familiarity- "who think me taking the summer term in office pretty much guarantees my place as Hokage after you're done."

"Doesn't it?"

Tobirama chuckled. "You should at least _consider _an Uchiha for the job."

"You know just as well as I do- they're far too temperamental."

Waving a non-committal goodbye, Hashirama trekked back home, contemplating how to persuade Madara out of his tantrum.

"Madara, it's me." He stepped tentatively out of his shoes, leaving them at the door.

It's not like he was expecting a response, but the eerily perfect silence he received still sent worrying needles pricking his nerves.

"Dara, please don't be like this..." He mumbled, poking his head into the kitchen doorway. Not seeing the Uchiha, he sighed and filled a glass with water, downing it and leaning uncomfortably against the kitchen counter.

Hashirama hated the house when Madara wasn't around; he despised it when it was empty. Save for himself and Madara, only his brother knew of their more-than-scandalous relationship. It was among one of the many secrets Hashirama held: precious, exciting and lethal- much like Madara himself.

Stepping up the stairs and entering the bathroom, Hashirama stripped off his clothes and ran the bath with scalding hot water- he loved them this way, much preferred them to Madara's inclination to ice-cold baths.

He slipped into it, basking in the hot water and relishing the feeling of his muscles loosening. He smiled contentedly and leant back against the thick marble rim, trying to think about anything _other_ than Madara, attempting to hone his thoughts in on appreciating the warm bath... Madara... Bath... Hashirama felt a hot, swooping sensation in his lower stomach as his cock half-hardened.

"You selfish bastard, Madara..." After all, hadn't he also gone two weeks without sex? Hadn't he wanted- more than anything- to stay and pound the Uchiha into oblivion, and not give in a _stupid _mission report?

By midnight that night, Hashirama could be found reading comic books in the sitting room, not-at-all concentrating on the colourful panels, and more using them as a vessel to slightly occupy his attention.

_He's done this before, he'll be back tomorrow morning... _Hashirama repeated in his head like a soothing mantra. Despite this thought, Hashirama couldn't help but worry, jumping to a worst-case scenario situation like an over-anxious parent fussing over a teenage daughter. Reminding himself firmly that Madara was more than capable of taking care of himself, he marched up to bed, slipping under cold sheets and wrapping his arms around nothing.

Hashirama was in a veritable state of panic. When he had woken up that morning, stretched his arm out to stroke his beautiful Uchiha's porcelain face, and found the linen pillowcase's cold surface instead, he had felt his insides drop from his chest and settle somewhere a thousand miles beneath the surface of of the earth.

"So you're saying you haven't seen him? _Anywhere? _Right, well, bye then!" Hashirama tried to keep his breath steady as he rudely slammed the door in his brother's face, who had innocently decided to drop in on his brother's residence, and been welcomed to a barrage of Madara-related questions.

Hating every second of silence in the house, Hashirama got dressed- in lightning speed- and stormed outside, subconsciously stomping to Madara's preferred destinations of choice- the training field (section 42-B), the quaint dango-house perched on his favourite grassy hill, the lake in the Uchiha district- Hashirama had to use a transformation jutsu at this point, he would surely die if confronted with more fiery Uchihas- and was now approaching a nightclub in the centre of the village.

"Y'know, Kenji... I'm sure my boyfriend's in a real state right now..."

Hashirama's heart soared, literally lifted into the air and took flight.

"But it's his fault... No sex..." Madara slurred to the bar man, pointing an accusatory finger at the man as if it was in fact _his _fault Madara went sexless the night previous.

"Oh yeah?" said Hashirama, sliding onto a bar stool next to Madara. "You must have a _great_ boyfriend if he worried about your sorry ass all night."

Madara's eyes stretched open in realisation.

"You know what, I'm sure he _stayed up half the night _worrying," Hashirama continued, trying to keep his relationship with Madara secret from the eavesdropping bar man.

It was as if the shock appearance of Hashirama snapped Madara out of his drunken stupor.

"Yeah, well, it's important in relationships to have a _healthy_ sex-life, wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh yeah, just like it's important to have _patience _with each other!"

"Y'know, maybe _your _boyfriend just wanted some fucking quality time after you disappeared for two God-damned weeks!"

"Maybe _your_ boyfriend was looking forward to seeing his gorgeous partner at home when he got back from the mission office last night!"

Madara's pale complexion tinted pink at the compliment.

"I think you should go- _your _boyfriend should be home soon..." Madara downed the rest of his drink. "Y'know, Kenji," Madara started, gesturing at the bar man, "my boyfriend's a total ass sometimes-"

Hashirama turned to exit the bar, sure he was imagining Madara mumble the rest of his sentence, "-but I love him."

Exactly seventeen minutes- Hashirama counted- after their meeting at the bar, Hashirama heard the door snap shut. He stepped out of the living room and into the corridor, where a guilty-looking Madara was easing off his shoes.

"Hashi, I-"

Hashirama threw himself at the man, throwing his arms around him so his fingers clutched at the fabric clinging to Madara's well-toned back muscles.

"I love you. Don't ever do that to me again."

Madara's smirk could be felt rather than seen, as his hands toyed with the ends of Hashirama's hair. One hand moved backwards to fiddle with the gleaming teal necklace gracing the Senju's neck.

"I'm not promising anything..." Madara said, laughing mischievously.

Hashirama pulled back and gave him a stern look.

"I'm serious, Dara!"

"Shut up and kiss me."

Madara's hungry lips found Hashirama's, the mouths pressing so closely together that only a Byakugan would be able to tell where one started and the other ended.

The kiss was depraved, it became desperate, lips bruising, tongues swerving in hot, cavernous battles and lungs capsizing with loss of air.

Hashirama ground his hips wantonly against Madara's, his cock's size- and hardness- showcased by the marvellous tent formed on his pants.

The kiss broke, saliva trailing in lines and breath mingling in harsh pants. "Mmm, Madara, I'm so fucking hard right now..."

"Oh, _God_, baby, grind my dick!" Madara panted hoarsely, pushing his own hips back with equal force.

"Madara... I can't take this... Mmm... Kneel..."

Madara knelt in front of his partner, lips pressed against fabric, his hot breath tantalisingly close to Hashirama's throbbing shaft. Madara's hands popped open the button and slowly pulled down the metal zip, his own lusty smirk never once leaving his face.

Hashirama's cock finally freed, he instinctively moved his hands down to palm his own manhood, only to have them slapped away by Madara.

"Nuh-uh... Only _I _get to please you..."

His pink tongue swiftly darted out to flick at Hashirama's pulsating head again and again, eventually tasting salty pre-cum. Madara ran his tongue slowly along Hashirama's length- from the crease where his balls stopped and the base of his cock started, all the way up to the leaking tip. He trailed saliva along the large vein lining it, swallowing any accumulated pre-cum in his mouth.

"Oh fuck, oh _fuck_!" Hashirama bucked his hips forcefully forward as Madara took him into his hot, wet lust-filled expanse of a mouth. Hashirama had found out long ago that Madara did not in fact have a gag reflex, and if he did, it had been laying dormant for the better part of three years. This meant that Hashirama had no trepidation in abusing his partner's wickedly talented mouth, basking in the wonderful feeling of the tip of his cock brushing against the back of Madara's throat. Madara roughly massaged his balls as he sucked: three quick, shallow bobs of the head, two infuriatingly slow trips so his upper lip pressed against Hashirama's abdomen, then five spectacular blows- both fast and impossibly deep- and Hashirama was gone, tearing strands of thick, black hair out of his lover's head as he came violently into Madara's mouth. Madara enthusiastically drank down the bitter liquid, licking his lips like a cat finishing a particularly satisfying meal- the sight instantly re-hardened Hashirama's dick.

"Holy shit... Holy fucking shit..."

Madara gasped as his was lifted, bridal style, and transported to the living room, where clothes were hastily discarded- surely ripped in the process- and winced in pain as he was thrown onto the couch. His enormous cock was extremely sensitive, darkened with blood and hard enough to make a bruise if hit in the face with.

"I think it's time I return the favour... What say you?

"Just-fucking-hurry-up."

Hashirama chuckled at the Uchiha's blatant need to for release. The Senju put three, long fingers into Madara's mouth.

"Oh no, Dara... You need to be punished for what you did to me, baby... Making me worry like _that_-" Hashirama pushed a saliva-coated finger into Madara tight ring of muscle, shuddering at the red-hot walls clamping around the intrusion.

"Ah! Nngh, _baby_!"

One by one the fingers stretched Madara's hole, still miraculously tight after so many of Hashirama's fuck-sessions.

He scissored the fingers playfully, making Madara writhe in pleasure. "My dick- please-"

"Only if you apologise..."

"I'm fucking sorry, okay?" Madara pressed himself against the fingers, slamming down onto them.

"Not good enough I'm afraid..." Hashirama removed his fingers with a _plop _and stroked his own dick, making sure the whole member was coated with slick pre-cum. He pressed the head against Madara's quivering hole, pinching one of his erect, pink buds and sucking on Madar's porcelain-perfect neck.

"Hashirama-_sama_, I'm so- _ah-_ deeply- _nngh_- sorry!"

"Better." Hashirama said, and with one, animalistic thrust, he was inside Madara, so his balls leant against Madara's perky ass-cheeks. Hashirama was sure he would pass out from the dizzying pleasure- the large intruder that was his cock had been dealt with with extreme force, walls pressing all around his member, squeezing him with iron-hot pressure.

"God, Dara, you okay down the-"

"_Fucking move. Now._"

Hashirama did not hesitate to obey, he pulled all the way back then pushed forcefully back with brick-breaking force. His balls slapped against Madara's ass as he slammed back and forth, Madara's cock reddened with blood pressure. Hashirama moved Madara's ankles to rest on his shoulders as he continued to pound the man, moving a shaking hand to clasp Madara's cock and pump it with vigour.

Both men were beyond the realms of pleasure, screaming obscenities and bathing in the sex-coated air. Finally, when Madara's walls clamped down- _hard_- on Hashirama's cock and Madara's ribbons of white streamed out of the tip of his cock, did both men climax so violently they shook from the sheer bliss of it. Hashirama pumped his seed into his ass, so far in that he would be surprised if Madara couldn't taste it. It dribbled slightly onto his smooth ass-cheeks as Hashirama used the last remnant of his strength to pull out of the man, before collapsing on top of him, falling into the comforting shroud of sleep.

"Hashi..."

"Yes, Dara...?"

"I won't ever leave you..."

"Is that a promise?"

"As close as it's ever going to get..."


End file.
